


i'm dreaming in blue and grey and stories of all the things i never wanted to be

by majesdane



Category: Skins (UK)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-15
Updated: 2011-01-15
Packaged: 2017-12-06 09:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesdane/pseuds/majesdane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Her first thought is this: what a beautiful boy.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm dreaming in blue and grey and stories of all the things i never wanted to be

  
he was the most beautiful boy i had ever seen in my life. but he looked really like a girl.

she was the most beautiful boy i had ever seen in my life.

\-- _girl meets boy_ , ali smith

 

 

 

All things considered, Mini probably wouldn't have even noticed Franky, had she not come _literally_ crashing into Roundview, knocking over a whole row of bicycles and eliciting a spattering of laughs and more than a few stares.

Mini, Grace, and Liv all turn around to look and watch Franky stumble awkwardly off her scooter -- or _whatever_ it was, Mini thought it looked like one of mobile things old people used to get around town on -- and jump to straighten up all the felled bikes. When Franky stands up, turns to look at the group of people staring at her, Mini gets her first real look at Franky's face, flushed with embarrassment.

Her first thought is this: what a beautiful boy.

Except, boys are never that slight and pretty, so after a minute longer of staring she realizes her mistake. She feels a tiny stab of inner embarrassment, mistaking a girl for a boy, and as she watches Franky stuff her hands into her pockets and stomp into the college -- and because it was sort of expected of her to make some sort of snarky remark whenever someone was strange or different -- she says, Wow, has the circus come to town or what?

To her left, Liv snorts. Grace, to her right, rolls her eyes. She could be all right, you know, she tells Mini, who turns and looks at her, hard, cocking an eyebrow up in disbelief.

Really?

Grace shrugs. Yeah, maybe. I don't know.

 

;;

 

Somewhere between Politics and lunch she decides that okay, maybe Grace does have a _slight_ point; for all they knew, anyway, Franky could have been like, massively popular at her old school. She spends the whole of Maths convincing herself that this was a fact -- Franky being popular and all -- because really, why else would someone dress like that? Hair slicked back like a boy's, a long, oversized coat that nearly drags on the ground, and the whole rest of her outfit, which made her look entirely and unbelievably ridiculous.

It was too awful for it to be accidental. That's what Mini tells herself.

Of course, when she actually suggests going to sit with Franky, Liv laughs and Grace turns to stare at her with narrowed, accusing eyes. You're not saying that just so you can go take the piss out of her, are you?

Mini rolls her eyes dramatically. _No._ If you must know, Gracie, it's because I gave it some thought and decided, why not give the new girl a chance? She links their arms together as they make their way into the cafeteria, looking around for where Franky's sat. She spots her all alone at a table, head bowed, headphones on.

She pulls Liv and Grace along and the three of them slip down into the empty seats across from Franky, who starts and tugs her headphones off as Mini sets her bag down on the table. Franky looks a lot younger up close, Mini notices, but she also notices the dark smudges of mascara under Franky's eyes and how it brings out the deep brown hue of her eyes.

All right. Not so bad then.

Franky sets her drink down, looking confused. Um. Look, she says, pushing herself away from the table and standing up. If you're going to say something, can you just get it over with right now? Because --

Mini stands, sticks her hand out. I'm Mini, she says. Smiles.

And that's how it starts.

 

;;

 

Sometimes she sees Franky looking at her and she _knows_.

She knows but she doesn't know, not really, why her heartbeat slows down to half speed, why it feels like her stomach is trying to turn itself inside out, twisting and knotting up into itself. She knows but she can't explain it, how with one part of her she is thinking, _Christ, what a fucking freak_ , but with the other part of her she's wishing, _Please, don't ever not look at me._

She hates Franky, but she's intrigued by her -- even now, after the lines have been drawn and war's been declared.

Mostly though, she tries not to think about Franky at all, something which is becoming a more insurmountable task with each day. It's bad enough that Franky didn't turn out to be who Mini thought she would be, but the fact that Grace spent most of her time mooning over her instead of sitting with Liv and Mini at lunch was more than a little irritating. And it wasn't fair because really, Grace was _her_ friend, not Franky's. Franky hadn't gone to primary with her, Franky hadn't been the one to invite her over to countless sleepovers or teach her how to sneak out of her house for parties or where and how to hide spliff and vodka from her parents.

Franky hadn't been there at all and it just wasn't _fair_. Mini could not for the life of her understand what Grace saw in someone like _Franky_ , who was clever in all the wrong ways and so goddamn _up_ herself with her whole, look at me, I'm not conforming to anyone's standards sort of attitude. As if that somehow made her better than everyone else.

And like, Mini had tried to be friends with her, so really -- what the fuck. It wasn't fair at _all_.

I fucking hate Franky Fitzgerald, she slurs to Liv in the bathroom of a club Nick takes them to, swaying a bit as she digs her lipstick out of her handbag and sets the cap down on the counter with a sharp _click_. I really fucking do.

Liv laughs, leans against the wall and meets Mini's eyes in the mirror. Is that why you're always talking about her?

Mini flushes. Fuck you, she says, tries to play it off like it's nothing.

(It isn't.)

 

;;

 

It's not like she wanted everything to go to shit.

Simply: one day she wakes up and realizes that she is on the outside looking in. And she doesn't even know how it happened.

 

;;

 

Things don't get better, only worse.

Even now, when she least expects it, she finds herself thinking about Franky, about how on the first day when she arrived at college, the four of them all skipped Philosophy class and instead went shopping. She remembers the slight glint of gloss on Franky's lips as she turned her head just so to look at her in the mirror.

But more than that, she remembers the way she'd looked at Franky too. And how her mind had made the sudden leap to the image of her leaning forward and running her thumb across Franky's bottom lip. She'd recoiled at the idea almost as soon as she'd thought it, pulling away and running off to find Grace and Liv as if the sound of gossip and laughter could drown out the unwanted thoughts in her head.

And she's tried to forget about it, she really has. It's not like she _wants_ to be thinking about these sort of things. But it seems as though the harder she tries to forget it, the less she's able to -- and the stronger the image becomes. Stronger and stronger until she isn't just running her thumb along Franky's bottom lip, but instead she is leaning down to press her lips against Franky's and kissing her, full on the mouth.

She can almost taste the lipgloss on her tongue, much too sweet, and when she licks her lips she half expects her lips to be sticky. They aren't, of course, but she finds it increasingly disturbing just how vivid these thoughts have become.

It's even worse when she wakes up in the middle of the night and the sheets are twisted around her all wrong and there's just this aching in her that she can't name or place or do anything with at all, and when she slips her hand down the front of her knickers for a few brief moments of frantic stroking she tells herself --

(such a fucking lie)

\-- that it has absolutely nothing to do with Franky.

And it doesn't.

It can't.

It can't because that would mean she's --

(fuck, she can't even say the word)

She's not. She's _not_.

 

;;

 

She hates Franky because, quite simply, Franky is ruining her life. _Has_ ruined her life.

And the worst part of all is that she doesn't even know that she's doing it.

 

;;

 

When she stumbles into the bathroom of a club Nick brought her to that she's already forgotten the name of, completely off her tits, the first thing she thinks is, of fucking _course_ , because Franky's there. She's _always_ there -- she's in all the right places at all the wrong times. Mini wishes she could just ignore her, but she can't, not when Franky looks up from the sink and meets her eyes.

She's caught somewhere between wanting to run and wanting to just tell Franky to get to fuck, and so she ends up being able to do neither. Rather, she stands in the door way awkwardly until Franky clears her throat and mumbles out a hello. And Mini wants to say something, she really fucking does, but she can't get her mouth to work properly and all the shots of tequila she had have made her brain go all fuzzy.

And it's the alcohol, she tells herself -- it's the reason why when Franky sighs and starts to move past her to get back out into the club Mini strides forward and pins her shoulders to the wall and kisses her. It's not like she means to do it and it isn't at _all_ what she's imagined and the horrible thing is --

(oh, _fuck_ )

\-- it's _better_ than what she imagined.

Franky pushes her away. What the fuck?

Mini stumbles back, suddenly sober. Fuck, she mutters, wiping at her mouth with her hand. Fuck. _Fuck._

Look, I, Franky starts to say, but Mini doesn't even want to hear it.

( _Can't_ hear it.)

She shoves past Franky into the club, pushing past groups of people dancing until she finds Nick. And she knows she should be angry when she sees him at the bar chatting up a tarty looking brunette with the fakest tan in all of Bristol, but really, she can't even be bothered with that right now; she pulls him to her and kisses him so hard that she thinks her lips will be bruised tomorrow morning.

You all right? he says, looks at her with wide, concerned eyes.

And fuck him, because really, why wouldn't she be?

 

;;

 

It's not like she wants to be perfect.

(Though, she really kind of does.)

She just doesn't want to be _this_.


End file.
